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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30010998">For the Throne You Never Wanted</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustALilBookworm/pseuds/JustALilBookworm'>JustALilBookworm</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>When In the Course of Human Events [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Archie Comics, Riverdale (TV 2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon Divergent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Most of this is my own imagination, Multi, Slow Burn, Soup is a better soul brother to Jug than Archie ever was, Very Narrowly Canon Compliant, Violence, a Bouphead friendship I didn't know I needed, season 5 overhall, those crazy kids will be back solving murders in no time</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:14:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,308</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30010998</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustALilBookworm/pseuds/JustALilBookworm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Riverdale isn't the same anymore.</p><p>It's not the same quiet little town with it's respective sides over the train tracks, which are night and day to each other. It's a trash heap, chaos reigns with power struggles on every latitude and parallel the town covers. You can try to leave it, but it will never truly leave you. Which is why a group of once young teenagers now young adults return to their hometown, each have their reasons and their demons to face before they can ever truly be happy and free. All metaphorical of course, but some are physical and others are more abstract.</p><p>They'll find hard truths and easy lies. Enemies in once friends. Good in evil and evil in good.</p><p>They should've stayed away. God, if they had only stayed away...</p><p>i.e. Pretty much a complete re-write of the 5th season to be vastly more entertaining, with characters and arcs you never thought you'd see.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Betty Cooper/Archie Andrews (minor), Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones, Cheryl Blossom/Toni Topaz, Fangs Fogarty/Kevin Keller, Veronica Lodge/Souphead Jones</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>When In the Course of Human Events [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2182815</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>For the Throne You Never Wanted</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So, forewarning...we're not kind to Archibald Andrews in this neck of the woods. So if he's your favorite character (for whatever god-unknown reason) just know I'm gonna portray him the way I see him as a character, and it won't be kind the further we go. I'm really gonna try to portray the characters the way I see them and it might not always be kind.</p><p>I've been itching to write something with Souphead in it for a while now, and I don't for the life of me know why.</p><p>So here you have it folks...my giant fuck-you to the writers, please enjoy! And please do tell me what you think, I'm desperate for conformation that what I write isn't complete and utter trash. It keeps me going, and the more you tell me, the faster this mind goes and these fingers type.</p><p>Anyway, completely off topic - but who else is PUMPED for the Shadow and Bone series on Netflix? We're over a month out, but the wait is killing me!</p><p>"Little Poor Me" - Layto</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Paul “Souphead” Jones has lived his entire life in a puny, wretched town a few miles outside of Bangor, Maine.</p><p>It wasn’t a good place to grow-up.</p><p>The junkies roaming the streets begging for any money at all for their “medicine”.</p><p>They’d do anything for it. Literally.</p><p>The pedophiles strutting about, always grabbing on to school kids and begging you to let them give you a blow job, because there was virtually no police department. Unless you counted Ol’ Gus – a crazy old man who’d do any job you hired him to do with his trusty shotgun in tow. His solution to every problem was to “shoot ‘em dead”.</p><p>Not to mention a small collection of homicidal maniacs and psychiatric hospital escapees.</p><p>A handful of folks evading the law for a variety of reasons.</p><p>Then there were the exciting people who simply wandered into town with no idea of who they were or how they got there.</p><p>Very diverse indeed.</p><p>Soup ran the only garage in a 5-mile radius. Technically it was his father’s garage as his and his mother’s names were on the deed. But his father had elected to – to put it nicely – give himself a new hole in his head through which to breath. Soup was 14 when it happened.</p><p>Everybody else had pitied the man, but Soup resented his father and the choice he made.</p><p>The family was swimming in debt from all of his father’s bad investment decisions, and his father was unable to bear it and move on like any person of sound mind, thick skin, and robust constitution would do.</p><p>That man was a coward in Soup’s eyes, the only good thing he did for him and his siblings was giving them normal names: Paul, Amy, Caleb, Neal, and Heather. Unlike his cousins Jughead and Jellybean, or Forsythe (that poor bastard had been the one stuck with the horrible Jones family name) and Forsythia.</p><p>All things considered, little Heather was the only sibling Soup had a real relationship with, he was much older than her and very protective. He didn’t speak to either of his brothers, and his sister Amy had left their dingy town and that was the last he’d heard of her. He’d been 11 at the time, twelve years had flown by as he was now a man of 23.</p><p>
  <em>“Why are you leaving, Amy?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Because I have to, Chicken Soup. Someday you’ll understand”, she told him as she was folding one of her shirts.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He was sitting on her bed, watching his older sister pack her clothes in her well-worn red suitcase. She had been talking about leaving for long time, always saying there was no life here for her, but she was just over 18 now, therefore she was legally allowed to do so. All the same, he couldn’t understand why his older sister was abandoning him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She must’ve seen how the look on his face, even though he had been staring down at his lap, as she put the shirt in her bag and walked around the bed, closer to him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t be sad, little Soup. This is just something I have to do. Besides, this won’t be the last time we ever see each other”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Do you promise?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I promise”</em>
</p><p>She lied.</p><p>His father lied.</p><p>His mother lied.</p><p>His brothers lied.</p><p>Everyone lied to him except Heather.</p><p>He never spoke of what happened between him and his older brothers. All anyone knew was that he came home bloody one night in June three years ago, and both Neal and Caleb split town the very next morning.</p><p>And now here he was.</p><p>Souphead Jones.</p><p>Owner of a car garage.</p><p>Leading member of the branch of Serpents that operated in his town (there was no better place for a biker gang).</p><p> Caretaker of a 13-year-old girl and 50-year-old women with early Alzheimer’s that was getting worse every day.</p><p>Still trying to pay off his cowardly father’s debts, which subsequently was why he couldn’t afford to have the parts he needed shipped to his garage and he had to drive and pick them up himself.</p><p>Once every three months.</p><p>All the way to Tennessee and back again.</p><p>He wasn’t too far now. He was almost through New York with his truck filled with new parts, and not-so-new parts. He assumed there was some type of nature going past him as he drove, but he wasn’t entirely certain as it was nearly 2:00 in the morning and pitch black out the window.</p><p>The logical thing to do was call his uncle FP, stay the night with him, and drive home in the morning. He knew he lived somewhere near here, but he’d come this far in one day.</p><p>
  <em>Honk</em>
</p><p>A large truck was heading right for him. The headlights were blinding. He jerked the wheel towards the side of the road and stopped on the dirt. Letting the semi speed past him.</p><p>Once it was safe distance behind him, he cautiously pulled back on to the asphalt of the road and drove on. He hadn’t even been back on the road for 5 minutes when he saw something in a ditch. It was too big to be a dog or a mountain lion, but smaller than a bear. Scrap metal? No, it couldn’t be.</p><p>He pulled over next to the ditch, got out, and used the flashlight on his phone to see what that mass was in the dirt.</p><p>He saw jean-clad legs and sneakers, a dark colored hoodie and a t-shirt, dirty, tangled, blonde hair was covering part of her face. The girl’s eyes were closed, and she wasn’t moving.</p><p>He put his phone on his car seat and pointed the light downward, so he could see even if not all that well. He went to her side and sat on his knees beside her, shaking her slightly in an attempt to wake her up.</p><p>“Miss? Miss, can you hear me? Miss?” he said.</p><p>It was all in vain.</p><p>She was out cold.</p><p>But at least she was alive.</p><p>He checked her pulse and made sure she was breathing and as far as he could tell from one look, she had no serious injuries. Externally that is.</p><p><em>She must be so cold</em>, he thought, taking her in his arms to keep her warm so she wouldn’t die of hypothermia before he could figure out what exactly to do with her – which of course would be preferable.</p><p>He brushed the hair off her face gently and looked at her.</p><p>She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.</p><p>He felt so sorry for her, she couldn’t be much older than him and was lying half-dead in a ditch in the middle of an upper east coast November; certainly, she did not deserve that.</p><p>After some thought, he concluded that she must be running from someone or something.</p><p>No one sleeps in a ditch because it’s comfortable.</p><p>If Soup was right, then it was entirely possible taking her to a hospital wouldn’t be safe for her. Not that where he was taking her was much safer, but she wouldn’t be looked for there.</p><p>He had to take her home with him.</p><p>He picked her up and carried her out of the ditch to the passenger side door, opened it, and put her in the seat. He shrugged off his serpent jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders to keep her warm, buckled her seatbelt across her lap and chest and reached to touch her cheek with two of fingertips very softly.</p><p>“How the hell did you end up all the way out here, baby?” he muttered quietly, knowing she couldn’t answer him. Really, he was asking himself.</p><p>This was all very unlike Souphead.</p><p>He was quiet and reserved, but very dangerous when he wanted to be (it’s what made the other Serpents in his town respect him enough to grant him his title and their loyalty).</p><p>He didn’t have the time or energy to devote to other people’s problems, he had enough of his own. He shouldn’t care what happened to this girl, but he did. He felt on odd kind of responsibility for her, that he needed to make sure she was okay and taken care of.</p><p>There wasn’t much on this Earth that he gave a rat’s ass about, but for some inexplicable reason she was one of them.</p><p>~</p><p>She’s been asleep for roughly 19 hours straight in both his truck and the guest room of his house. It’s amazing what she’s slept through and he had to check and make sure she was still alive just to be safe a couple of times.</p><p>Don’t be confused – Soup wasn’t complaining at all. He didn’t have to feed her since she was sleeping. His mother and sister got her cleaned up when he first brought her home, so she didn’t smell like dirt, sweat, and oddly enough pot? She wasn’t exactly running around and making a mess of things. It didn’t hurt that she looked really pretty when she slept, incredibly peaceful, and as creepy as it sounds – he didn’t mind watching her.</p><p>He was sitting in a chair beside the bed she was in when she began to stir. Her eyes fluttered open, and immediately confusion and alarm about her whereabouts filled them. She looked around quickly at the room; it was small, but homey and comfortable with the evening sun shining in through the window. Her eyes settled on Souphead.</p><p>“Good morning” he said with a smirk on his face.</p><p>“Where am I? Who are you?” she asked, clearly afraid.</p><p>She wiggled as far back on the bed as she could and drew her knees into her chest. A defensive position. But Soup didn’t move, he was sitting in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest, watching her.</p><p>“My name is Souphead Jones, and you’re in my house, miss...”</p><p>“Betty Cooper” she said uneasily.</p><p>“Betty Cooper. First time in Maine, then?” he asked, sounding only a little sardonic. But something about her name bugged him, he heard it before...but where?</p><p>“Maine?” she exclaimed, “How the hell did I get all the way to Maine? I’m not supposed to be here”</p><p>Soup burst out laughing at the last part of her sentiment, “Are any of us?”</p><p>“I’m being serious, tell me how I got here” she demanded, eyes narrowed as she watched him laugh at her distress. Her legs were now straightened out most of the way but were still slightly bent, her hands were resting on her knees.</p><p>Souphead calmed himself down from his laughter, “Well so was I; anyway, the short version of the story is that I found you passed out in a ditch on the side of the highway. At 2 in the morning. In the middle of the woods. In upstate New York. So, I thought it best to bring you home with me, and here we are”</p><p>“How long was I out?’ she asked tentatively, like she didn’t really want to know the answer.</p><p>“Little less than a day” he answered softly, not wanting not wanting to scare her.</p><p>She looked down at her lap and nodded, then her eyes widened for a moment and she looked back at him, but now she was really examining him, “You said your name is Souphead Jones?”</p><p>“Yes, it is” he said a bit confused as to where she was going with this. The last thing he wanted was for her to have heard of him and his family and their reputation. And that included his extended family.</p><p>She sat in the bed with a slight look of shock on her face, staring right at him.</p><p><em>She knows, and she’s afraid</em>, he thought, preparing for her to start screaming in fear.</p><p>“Are you, by chance, related to someone named Forsythe Pendleton Jones?” she asked.</p><p>That was a surprise, “All three of them” he answered. He didn’t think she was afraid, but one could never be too careful. His entire family was made up of horrible people, every single one of them had a bad reputation that would follow them all their lives. Not that it really bothered any of them.</p><p>“Jughead Jones” she said, not really in the cadence of a question but still needing an answer.</p><p>“My cousin” he stated, “He lives in some tiny backwater town not that far from where I found you, actually. I think it’s called Lakeville or something like that? Oceanside? Something to do with water”</p><p>“Riverdale” she said flatly.</p><p>“That’s the one, how do you know it?” he questioned.</p><p>“Because I live there, and I know Jughead” she said quietly, once again looking at her lap somberly.</p><p>He thought for a moment about the grand total of three times he had spoken to his cousin over the past ten years. Mostly they just compared personal baggage, that’s all they had to talk about. When Jug was homeless Soup’s family couldn’t afford to take him in, and he felt guilty about it to this day. Jug told him about everything that happened in his life and Soup told him about his. Whether that was their intention or not.</p><p>“You’re the Betty, aren’t you? <strong>His </strong>Betty Cooper?” he asked quietly but astonished at the same time.</p><p>“Yes, I am. He told you about me?” she said.</p><p>She didn’t let Soup see the tears forming in her eyes.</p><p>“Jug and I have a complicated relationship, but in the past decade and a half we’ve spoken thrice. And those conversations somehow always become about all the personal shit he and I have gone through. He knows my pain, and I know his. An even tradeoff” he explained, “He talked about you a lot. How you two were solving all kinds of mysteries, how smart you are, what a good person you are, how much he loves you”</p><p>She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand “uhm, I think you mean ‘loved’, we...we’re...” she let the words trail off, but he understood.</p><p>“I’m sorry” he said gently, feeling guilty, “I didn’t mean to- “</p><p>“No, no, it’s okay, you didn’t know. It’s just that, we didn’t really part on great terms, we still aren’t, and it’s just…painful still, that’s all” she said.</p><p>“If you don’t mind my asking, how long has it been?” he asked.</p><p>“Oh, it’s been about seven years now” she said, sniffling again.</p><p>That very statement alone proved the theory he had.</p><p>Sure, bad breakups are a bitch – he was no stranger to that himself – but it’s unlikely to still be crying over it after 7 years. At least in his experience that is.</p><p>It was entirely possible that it was just such a horrible separation that the memory hurt that badly to think about, but it was also possible that it hurt this bad because she still loved his beloved cousin, Forsythe.</p><p>What Soup wanted to know was if Forsythe still loved Betty.</p><p>From the way he talked about her, it was highly unlikely he could <strong>ever </strong>stop loving her. In fact, Soup was a little surprised he wasn’t hearing some sentimental romance story about how they got married right after high school and college was <em>so difficult </em>because they were apart for so long. But love managed to find a way and all that jazz.</p><p>A part of him was glad he wasn’t, he wasn’t good with emotions.</p><p>Though he could read people very well.</p><p>~</p><p>
  <strong>Two Weeks Later – 3 Days Before Thanksgiving</strong>
</p><p>It turns out Betty was quite the mechanic.</p><p>She had a gift.</p><p>She started helping Soup out in the garage pretty much every day, even though he had to beg her not to go anywhere in his town without him.</p><p>“Betty please, it’s just too dangerous for you. You’re new in town, these people don’t know who you are, that’ll only give them more reason to try to get to you” he said.</p><p>“Soup, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, I don’t need a babysitter. Plus, I’m a Serpent and an FBI agent, they wouldn’t mess with me” she said defiantly with her hands on her hips.</p><p>He sighed and rubbed his eyes, “Bet, that title will only get you so far in this dump. People here aren’t as afraid of us here as they are back in Riverdale, and they really don’t like enforcement. If you stood up to them and ran that mouth of yours, a leather jacket and a badge won’t save you from what they’ll do”</p><p>“What will they do?”</p><p>“That depends on who you mouth off to, miss missy”</p><p> It took another few minutes of back and forth, but he eventually convinced her to stay close to him. She became even more convinced when she saw the kind of people that lived in his town, a few of whom whooped, whistled, and cat-called her before Soup threatened to bash their skulls in and cut out their tongues.</p><p>They became somewhat friends in the short time she’s been here, although there were things they still hadn’t talked about.</p><p>She didn’t tell him how she ended up in the woods or what happened with his cousin.</p><p>He didn’t tell her about his family or his life beyond the bear minimum.</p><p>She did however talk a lot about the things that went on in Riverdale while they worked on whatever vehicle had slowly rolled into his garage and then died. But if the owner was willing to pay Soup’s price, they’d fix it up so it could last at least 2 more months until it would die again and become scrap metal.</p><p>It depended on the shape the vehicle was in, sometimes there was nothing they could do.</p><p>She told him about the people in her town, more details on the mysteries she solved with Jug, what the <strong>exact </strong>differences were between the Northside and the Southside of Riverdale. He told her about the town, his business, and a smidgen about his family.</p><p>“What about the Serpents?” he asked, “The last thing I heard was that Jug was King”</p><p>“Oh yeah, FP gave him the title and Jug completely turned everything around for them. Crime in their ranks is down, they’ve become a good part of the community instead of something to be afraid of. Although, the Ghoulies – those creepy guys with the face paint and over exaggerated aesthetic – they took over the Whyte Wyrm and the rest of the Southside a few years ago. The Serpents relocated to the Northside”</p><p>She may have said more or not, Soup didn’t hear her.</p><p>He was incensed.</p><p>Jughead – his cousin – had turned the Southside Serpents into a goody two-shoes after school club?</p><p>Was he hearing this right?</p><p>If he had known about this earlier, Soup would’ve gone to Riverdale and opposed Jug’s rule. He was a Jones and a Serpent, and by Serpent law he was allowed to challenge for the mantle of Serpent King.</p><p>This should not be. Serpents were supposed to be feared, not given a sticker for good behavior.</p><p>Didn’t Jug know this? As King, he was supposed to give all of himself to the Serpents, they were supposed to be the only family he needed. He was supposed to uphold their laws, not make new ones. Those weren’t necessary.</p><p>In Soup’s eyes, Jughead completely changed the nature of the people he ruled over.</p><p>He rolled out from under the pickup truck he had been working on and went over to his tool bench. He needed a cigarette; they could kill him, but damned if he didn’t love them. His preferred poison.</p><p>Betty didn’t look up what she’d been working on under the hood. He couldn’t remember what she said was going to do, all he was focused on was what she told him about the Serpents.</p><p><em>What the fuck is he doing?</em> he thought.</p><p>“Everything okay Soup?” Betty asked, standing up straight and wiping her hands on a rag, “Think I lost you for a second there”</p><p>“Yeah-yeah, fine. Just...thinking” he said, sounding a little far away still.</p><p>“Okay, then” she said hesitantly, “Would you mind if I had one of those?”</p><p>She nodded her head towards the pack of cigarettes and Soup opened the box and held it out in front of him, offering her one. After she chose which cigarette she wanted and held it between her teeth, he lit it for her with the lighter he kept in the drawer of the bench for situations like these. She took a drag – in a way that showed she hadn’t done it much before – and when she breathed out, she started coughing.</p><p>Soup chuckled, “New to this, are we?”</p><p>“Little bit” she said in reply, still coughing a little, “Can you tell?”</p><p>“Not at all” he dismissed jokingly, smiling and waving his left hand through the air a bit.</p><p>She giggled, “Good, or else that would’ve been embarrassing”</p><p>“Bet, can I ask you something?” he said after a moment.</p><p>“Shoot” she said.</p><p>“Did the Serpents ever try to reclaim the territory the Ghoulies took?”</p><p>“Um, not really, no. They just sort of let them have it and moved on”</p><p>Okay – well that takes the cake.</p><p>Not only did Forsythe completely disregard the basic principles of being a Serpent, but he didn’t even bother to reclaim land lost during a terf war with a rival gang.</p><p>“Alright, now I get to ask you a question” Betty said, smiling and bouncing on her heels.</p><p>He chuckled at her childlike excitement, “Go on then”</p><p>“How did you get your nickname?”</p><p>“You get one question and that’s what you use it on, Sunshine?” he laughed.</p><p>She laughed with him, “It’s a legitimate question, I know how Jug got his name, but I don’t about you”</p><p>“Alright fine, I’ll tell you” he sighed, crushing his cigarette into the metal ash tray on the table “When I was little my mom gave me soup when I would get head colds. Well, one time when I was maybe 4, I was so tired that I fell asleep sitting up and my face fell into the bowl of soup my mom made me. My brothers thought it was the funniest thing in the world, they started calling me ‘soup head’ to make me angry. Jokes on them though, I was smart enough to embrace it. Been going by Souphead ever since. And it’s not like Paul is the greatest name, either”</p><p>She placed one of her hands on his shoulder, “I think Paul is a lovely name”</p><p>She was smiling at him, and he smirked at her.</p><p>In that moment, he was glad to have a friend like her.</p><p>~</p><p>They finished up work a few hours later and walked home.</p><p>Soup’s house was a quaint country farmhouse. It had a wooden wrap-around porch, a chimney on the dark colored roof, and it was painted a soft yellow on the outside.</p><p>So, not really the type of thing you’d expect given his circumstances; but there’s a story that goes with it.</p><p>Funny enough, it was the cheapest house his father could find when he came to this town to escape his own father. In the action, he left his younger brother, Forsythe II, alone to deal with an alcoholic and abusive father and a mother who wouldn’t stick-up for herself or her children. Soup’s parents fixed up the house as best they could throughout the years, at least now it didn’t look like the dumpster fire it does in the picture his mother has of his father standing in front of the house the day he got the keys.</p><p>They walked through the front door; it was right off the kitchen, meaning all you had to do was turn a corner and <em>boom</em> kitchen.</p><p>Soup heard a small, pained moan in the kitchen – Betty heard it to. They exchanged a quick worried glance and went in together to see what that sound was.</p><p>It was Souphead’s mother. She was sitting on the floor by the table, holding her left hand with her right and just staring at the gash that was there. It went diagonally across nearly the entire back of her hand. There was knife on the floor not far from her, like it had been thrown there.</p><p>“Mom” Soup said in alarm, hurrying to her.</p><p>“I’m alright hun, I’m alright. It’s just a little cut” she said as nonchalantly as she could.</p><p>“Mom, this isn’t a small cut it’s deep” he took his mother’s hurt hand as gently as possible in his, making sure to keep her hand flat. He examined her wound as best he could.</p><p>“Let me get you some medicine, gauze, and tape” Betty said, starting for a drawer.</p><p>“No” Soup said, louder than necessary. With his free hand he pointed at her as he spoke.</p><p>“Soup” she tried to protest.</p><p>“Betty, please go”</p><p>“But I -”</p><p>“Leave” he screamed.</p><p>She looked at him sadly for a moment like she wanted to say something, then turned and quickly went up the stairs to her room.</p><p>“That was cruel” his mother sighed.</p><p>“Don’t try to avoid the subject, mom” he said, standing up to get a dish towel and wet it with warm water at the sink. He knelt down next to her and dabbed her hand with the towel in silence.</p><p>“I know what you’re thinking, you might as well just say it” his mother said, watching his frustrated face as he cleaned her wound.</p><p>Soup sighed and stopped, looking up to meet his mother’s eyes, “I think you need to see a doctor”</p><p>“Darling, this isn’t that serious” she said.</p><p>“Oh yeah? Then how did you get hurt?” he challenged.</p><p>“I was outside feeding the chickens and I came in to wash my hands and make your sister a snack, when I realized I forgot to turn off the hose I was using to fill their water trough. I must’ve turned around to quickly and cut my hand on accident with the knife I was holding. That’s it” she explained calmly.</p><p>He nodded while looking at the ground, “Mom” he looked up again, “what grade is Heather in?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“What. Grade. Is Heather. In”</p><p>“Paul Jones, I think I know what school grade my daughter is in” she sounded so offended by his question, but he knew she wouldn’t get it right, and he needed to prove to her the seriousness of her condition.</p><p>“Great, then tell me”</p><p>“She’s in 3<sup>rd</sup> grade” his mother said.</p><p>“Mom, Heather is in the 7<sup>th</sup> grade, she’s 13 years old” Soup told her as gently as he could “you haven’t made an after-school snack for her since she was 9”</p><p>His mother’s expression turned from annoyance to horror. She couldn’t even remember what school grade her daughter was in. Too many things were slipping through the cracks, but she’d already been to the doctors, and all they said they could do was run some tests and use experimental drugs and treatments.</p><p>She sighed and looked at her son sadly, “Okay, I know it’s getting worse, but they already told me the options I have, and I chose none of them”</p><p>“Mom, please, let me take you to Doctor Owens. Maybe there’ll be an option they have now that you’ll like, and he can tell us what’s going on” he begged, holding his mother’s hand with both of his.</p><p>“Alright, alright. I’ll do it if it’ll give you peace of mind” she rested her good hand on her son’s cheek, and he smiled at her.</p><p>“Thank you, mamma”</p><p>~</p><p>
  <strong>Two Days Before Thanksgiving</strong>
</p><p>He did get her to the doctor. The very next day, in fact.</p><p>Only to be told his mother’s condition was rapidly worsening.</p><p>They told her about the treatments and drugs they could give her again, and once again his mother refused.</p><p>“If I’m going Soup, it will be on my own terms” she told him after he tried to convince her to try the options they were offering. They couldn’t afford them – any of them – but if it was what his mother needed Soup would work himself to death to get the money.</p><p>They had just gotten home from the doctor’s office half an hour ago, after spending all morning there.</p><p>Heather was at school.</p><p>His mother was in the office they had at the back of the house.</p><p>Soup was in the kitchen, trying to wrap his mind around losing his mother sooner than he imagined he would. Tears fell down his cheeks and small sobs escaped from him.</p><p>He had no idea where Betty was until she came barreling down the stairs.</p><p>“Souphead Jones. I want you to explain to me why you wouldn’t let me help you with your mother yesterday” she demanded, facing him with her hands on her hips.</p><p>“Betty” he said quietly, but she didn’t hear him and kept going.</p><p>“I was only trying to help, that didn’t merit getting yelled at”</p><p>“Betty” he said a little louder.</p><p>“What did you not want me to hear?”</p><p>“Betty please”</p><p>“I thought were friends, there’s no need to get so defensive around friends you trust. Unless you don’t trust me”</p><p>“That’s not-“ he tried to explain.</p><p>“You know, there’s so much I don’t know about you because you won’t tell me, like who is the girl in that picture in my dresser? What happened to your father? Those boys in that picture your mother keeps on the living room wall?” she was so animated, and her voice was filled with determination.</p><p>“Do you ever stop asking questions?” he shouted frantically, trying to get her to stop.</p><p>She stopped talking and just looked at him, her eyes looked sad when she realized she pushed too far. He was appalled at himself for speaking to her like that for a second time.</p><p>She was about to apologize – he could see it coming – when he turned and walked quickly out the front door. She followed him to try and stop him and made it so far as the porch, but he took off running as fast as his legs would take him into the tall grass of the field across from their house.</p><p>She knew she couldn’t catch him, and probably shouldn’t try anyway.</p><p>He needed time.</p><p>~</p><p>There was a creek at the other end of the field that Soup would go to when he needed to get away from the world for a little bit. He would sit on the rocks that edged the water and watch the stream flow down its path to the coast and the sea. Amy brought him here for the first time when he was 8 and she was 15.</p><p>He’d been sitting here for a few hours now and the sun was setting over the trees on the horizon. It was time to go back, he knew that; it was time to go back and apologize to Betty for getting so upset at her – twice. He was so distraught over his mother’s condition and choice to not even try and fight, that he couldn’t control his anger and blew up at the first person that irked him.</p><p>Which wasn’t fair.</p><p>He came here in shame about what he’d done, he sat and thought about everything that happened today.</p><p>He made his peace with his mother’s choice, and he made one himself: he and Heather would take care of her as long as they could, but when it got too rough, he would send her to a facility where she would be cared for. He knew it was highly probable that Heather would still be legally a minor when that day came, so he would send her to their grandparents in New Hampshire. Child services and the state would assign her a new legal guardian pretty much the same day his mother was admitted, and with his track record they would find him unfit. Their maternal grandparents were the best option for her.</p><p>Soup would figure out what to do with himself as life threw its worst at him. He’d probably end up leaving here, for where though? Well, that would be decided later.</p><p>He stood up from the rocks and began the walk home.</p><p>~</p><p>
  <strong>Two Weeks Ago</strong>
</p><p>Anybody would be afraid if they woke up and didn’t know where they were or how they got there.</p><p>Betty opened her eyes to a small bedroom with the walls painted a soft shade of purple. Sunlight was coming through the open window curtains, but she couldn’t tell if it was morning or evening light.</p><p>Then she saw him.</p><p>For moment she thought it was really him, but this man had a lighter hair color than him. Other than that, he was nearly a carbon copy of him. Even their names were eerily close to each other. Jughead and Souphead Jones.</p><p>She almost reached out and touched his cheek but held back since she didn’t want to push her luck before she got a feel for who her host and savior (it would seem) really was.</p><p>Then he told her exactly what she didn’t want to hear; he told her that Jug talked about her a lot. That was something she tried to forget when they broke up seven years ago, one of the many things that is – but we’re not getting into that yet.</p><p>Her words failed her when she tried to explain to Soup that they weren’t together anymore.</p><p><em>Honestly Elizabeth, you broke up seven years ago, you graduated college three years ago, and you still can’t audibly say you’re over</em>, she thought, hearing her mother’s voice.</p><p>“You alright there, Sunshine?” he asked softly, his eyes filled with concern and guilt.</p><p>“Ye-yeah, I’m fine” she said as convincingly as she could, “Uh, thank you for bringing me here Souphead”</p><p>He smiled warmly at her, “You’re welcome Betty” he stood up from his chair, “Are you hungry?”</p><p>She nodded eagerly; she was starving. In fact, she couldn’t really remember the last time she had a real meal. Probably yesterday morning when she had breakfast with Veronica and Cheryl.</p><p>He walked out of the room, leaving Betty alone in the unfamiliar space with nothing but her thoughts. She noticed she wasn’t in the same clothes she’d been wearing, and her cheeks went red in humiliation at the idea of someone she didn’t even know changing her clothes. Really though, she’d rather think about anything other than her reality.</p><p>Too late, she was already thinking about it.</p><p>
  <em>“Whatever it is you feel the need to tell me, I really don’t have time, Archie” Jug snapped as he stormed down the hall towards the front door of the school, the red head on his heels.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Jug c’mon, would you just talk with me for two minutes”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re too late Archie, 7 years too late. The time for talking has been over for a while now” he shot back.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Jug-“ Archie tried to reason, but by the subtle bite in his voice it was clear he was getting frustrated.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t call me that” Jughead roared “I just wanted to be left alone, Archie, don’t you understand that? That’s all I ever wanted, but oh no – you had to come along and make me think you were my friend. Well I don’t need you, I don’t need anybody. I can do fine on my own, I was doing fine on my own”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“This is so like you, isn’t it? You never want to make things easy for yourself and everyone else because you think everybody’s out to get you? Poor Jughead, always has to play the victim. Well guess what, the rest of us have our own trauma too, you’re not the only one suffering in the world” Archie spat, fed up.</em>
</p><p>A light knock on the door caught her attention.</p><p>Souphead was there holding a tray with a bowl of mac and cheese, some water, and a biscuit.</p><p>She noticed more differences between him and Jug now.</p><p>He was a bit shorter than Jug, but also more muscular, and his hair wasn’t as long or curly as Jughead’s. He did have a similar style of dress: t-shirt, jeans, a flannel around his waist, and a serpent jacket on his shoulders. The only thing he was missing was a beanie and at first glance you’d think he was Jug.</p><p>“Thank you” she said as he handed her the tray of food. He smiled and gave her a nod before turning to leave the room.</p><p>“Souphead” she said before he left, making him turn back around “Can I ask you something?”</p><p>“Shoot, sunshine” he said.</p><p>“Uh…my clothes…did you...uhm…?” she was trying to ask him if he changed her, but it wasn’t going very well. It was an uncomfortable question to ask. It was a good thing he understood what she was trying to say and gave her a reassuring smile.</p><p>“My mother found some old clothes that looked like they would fit you and took the ones you were wearing to clean and dry them” he said.</p><p>It was just a slightly large, faded red t-shirt and some purple plaid pajama pants that they gave her, but it was nice of them to care enough about her to pick her up off the side the road, bring her to their home, and take care of her. Otherwise, she might not even be here right now.</p><p>Alive that is.</p><p>~</p><p>
  <strong>3 Days Before Thanksgiving</strong>
</p><p>She’s been here for two weeks now; people were probably going crazy looking for her since she hasn’t called or answered any calls. For all she knew she’s been named a missing person or declared legally dead. Soup tried to convince to call several times in her first few days there, he even offered to drive her all the way back to Riverdale, but she didn’t really want to go back at the time. She still didn’t really want to go back.</p><p>
  <em>“Are you sure you shouldn’t call anyone back home, Sunshine? They’ve gotta be worried about by now” he asked her while she helped him cook a chili dinner for that night.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Soup, trust me, no one is worrying” she said as she stirred the cooking chili in the pot, with a small laugh to try and convince him everything was fine. He didn’t ask again for another few days after that.</em>
</p><p>Yes it was irresponsible of her to go off the grid, but she’s never been <em>this </em>secluded from her usually crime-filled world. It was refreshing to be so far away from everything: her job, her hometown, her personal issues, the issues with her friends.</p><p>Were they her friends anymore?</p><p>Things are better with Veronica then they were when they first arrived in town, less awkward. But they still weren’t back to being B and V, sharing everything with each other and trusting one another. Betty didn’t know if they could ever be that again, not after everything she’s done.</p><p>Jug can’t even stand to look at her half the time, and when they are together they just stay in silence unless it absolutely has to be said or they start trading snippy remarks back and forth until they end up in a screaming match.</p><p>Archie was around a lot for a couple months, but she’s pretty sure leaving town and ducking his calls has sent the message. They weren’t together per-se, he killed her loneliness for a while and filled the hours in the day so she wasn’t alone with her thoughts. But again, she’s in Maine now, hundreds of miles north of New York – where he currently is without any idea of her whereabouts.</p><p>So, no they weren’t really her friends anymore. They were people she used to know, but not so much anymore.</p><p>A small town in Maine was the perfect place to be away from it all, with the companionship of a new friend.</p><p>Her and Soup have developed quite the repour in the past couple weeks together. They have a system where their allowed to ask questions, but they will answer the same number of questions in return. They tried not to get too personal, they weren’t at that stage where they could spill their emotions out. But they still had a type of trust between them.</p><p>She helped him out in the garage he owned mostly, they would argue about movies and books (yet another way he was so similar to Jug) but were always respectful. He introduced her to his mother and his younger sister Heather, who Betty has actually grown rather fond of.</p><p>She was a spunky young thing with dark hair she kept pulled half up, a magenta dress with short sleeves that she wore with a black and white stripped undershirt, a clearly well-loved pair of converse, and a pair of glasses. Very quickly after meeting her, Betty learned she was an artist.</p><p>No, that doesn’t do her proper justice.</p><p>An illustrator?</p><p>No.</p><p>A creator of masterpieces capable of invoking feelings the likes of which the world has not seen since Michelangelo and the Renaissance period?</p><p>Close, but too wordy.</p><p>How about we go with an art magician.</p><p>Still not great, but we need to move on. The point is she’s super fucking great at art and she’s 13, how does that happen?</p><p>To be honest, the girl reminded Betty a lot of herself at that age. Young with the world at her feet but already has her mind set on a plan for the future. Hard opinions that aren’t easily shaken, and a core system of beliefs and principles that aren’t deviated from. Someday she’ll learn that things weren’t going to go the way she thinks they will for her, but she’s still young and Betty didn’t want to strip away what was left of her childhood innocence.</p><p>Soup’s mother was an extremely kind woman with short brown hair and eyes, and most of the time she was smiling. But pretty soon after she met the lady, Betty noticed she was a bit forgetful. She asked if everything was alright, and the woman laughed it off and said it was just a product of getting older.</p><p>“I don’t recommend it” she said with a chuckle while folding up some clean kitchen towels to go back in the cabinet until they were needed. Betty didn’t push the subject, but something told her it was more than just getting older. Whenever she asked Souphead about it and pretty much anything to do with his family, he’d clam up and change the subject very quickly.</p><p>After a few failed attempts, she stopped asking and just accepted that he wasn’t going to tell her anytime soon. And it’s not like she’s been terribly forthcoming herself, she hasn’t told him much about herself, so how could she expect to know him if she won’t let him know her?</p><p>~</p><p>She started working in the garage with him almost immediately after she found out he ran one. It was a good change of pace for Betty, something to focus her energy and mind on besides her worries and – well – pretty much everything. She wore a pair of overalls and a long sleeve shirt that she found in the pile of clothes Soup’s mother gave her not long after she arrived at the house.</p><p>“What the fuck are you talking about?” she demanded crossly at a cackling Souphead, “Fantasy novels are incredible, what have you been smoking?”</p><p>They were sitting in the back office on their lunch break eating leftovers from Soup’s fridge. She brought tomato soup and he brought some cheesy rice, each with a piece of garlic bread. Betty didn’t want to impose at his family’s dinner table and make herself a burden, but him, his mother, and his sister all insisted she join them and make herself at home.</p><p>And besides, she wasn’t going to be in Maine forever and she didn’t know if she’d get a chance to see Souphead again after she left. So it was probably in her best interest to take advantage of his remarkably (and secretly) good cooking while she has the chance.</p><p>“It’s a completely unnecessary genre, Bet” he argued after the laughing subsided, but he had a grin plastered on his face.</p><p>“Oh, right, and you probably think horror novels are better?” she rolled her eyes.</p><p>“Yes actually, they’re vastly better because they don’t waste time establishing the rules of some fucking fairy land”</p><p>“You realize some horror novels incorporate elements of fantasy stories, right?” she said as she raised a spoonful of soup to her lips.</p><p>“Yes, but to me in that sense whatever hocus pocus they use is vastly more believable” he quipped tearing off a piece of his garlic bread.</p><p>“You’re impossible” she huffed and rolled her eyes, his grin only got bigger and he gave her a wink.</p><p>She took another slurp of her soup and then said, “You seriously don’t like any fantasy novels?” with a raised eyebrow. She was deliberately trying to make him slip up and admit he liked at least one fantasy novel.</p><p>“Not one” he said bluntly, but with a touch of amusement.</p><p>“What about <em>Harry Potter</em>?” she asked, he shook his head.</p><p>“<em>Lord of the Rings</em>?” another head shake.</p><p>“<em>The Tawny Man trilogy</em>?” once more, a head shake.</p><p>“<em>Shadow and Bone</em>?” head shake.</p><p>“<em>The Poppy War</em>?” head shake.</p><p>She was frustrated with her friend and his lack of willingness to branch out visa vie his reading materials and she could’ve left it there, but in a last-ditch effort she said, “<em>The Ruin of the Kings</em>?”</p><p>There was no head shake, he hesitated and his eyes widened just slightly as he stared at the floor in front of his desk, where he was sitting.</p><p>“Ha haa” Betty laughed in triumph and clapped her hands together with a smile on her face.</p><p>“Okay fine, I’ll admit I like one fantasy novel, but that’s it” he grumbled moodily, “But seriously Bet, can we keep this to ourselves please? It really wouldn’t make things easy for me if my Serpents found out I have a soft spot for a book about a magical journey”</p><p>“Don’t worry my brave knight, no one will know you like a fantasy novel” she said smugly, but she did mean it. She just wanted to tease him a bit.</p><p>~</p><p>They both knew something was wrong immediately after they walked in the front of the house when they got home from the garage. They had that weird feeling that something just wasn’t right, and then there it was.</p><p>Souphead’s mother bleeding out on the kitchen floor.</p><p>Betty wanted to help and she meant to, but Soup made it very clear he didn’t want her there. She went up the stairs and stopped at the top, sitting on the landing where they couldn’t see her, but she could hear what they were talking about.</p><p>She didn’t know why she stopped there; this was really an invasion of privacy. But she did it, none the less.</p><p>She couldn’t hear that well, but she could still spick up on somethings.</p><p>“I think you need to see a doctor”</p><p>
  <em>Doctor, what for?</em>
</p><p>“Darling, this isn’t that serious”</p><p>
  <em>Is this about the cut on her hand?</em>
</p><p>“Okay, I know it’s getting worse…”</p><p>
  <em>Some type of medical condition?</em>
</p><p>“…and he can tell us what’s going on”</p><p>
  <em>So it is a medical condition.</em>
</p><p>Betty stood and shuffled into her room and shut the door as quietly as she could before she collapsed against the quilted blanket on her bed and rubbed her eyes. Trying to process everything she just heard.</p><p>Clearly there was something going that Soup didn’t trust her enough to know about his mother. Odds are, she was sick with something and they were both lying and pretending everything was fine.</p><p>Christ, did Heather even know her mother was sick. She is 13, she deserves to know what’s happening but she’s at an age where everything in her is off balance. There’s no telling how she would take it if she were told her mother was sick.</p><p>But there’s something else, she’s been here for weeks now and she has no idea who these people really are besides them being Jughead’s family. Because of that, she felt she could trust them, but there were too many secrets under this roof, and it was time to put an end to that business, somehow or another.</p><p>Betty uncovered her eyes and looked at the plain white ceiling above her, then they began to trail all around the room, she pushed herself up into a sitting position as she looked. The room had purple walls and an old, empty wooden dresser and desk. There were no pictures on the walls in this room, they were bear and it looked like they have been for a while now.</p><p>Her eyes stopped at the dresser against one of the walls. The clothes she’d been given to wear were piled on top of it. She hasn’t put them away because after everything they’ve done for her, she’s been working herself like crazy to re-pay them for their kindness, even though they never asked her to. Most mornings she just grabs something, throws it on, and heads downstairs to find a way to make herself useful.</p><p>Deciding to put an end to her procrastination, she went to the dresser and opened the top drawer to reveal a slightly old looking picture frame. She picked it up as gently as she could and looked at the picture behind the dirty glass of the frame. It must’ve been hidden in the drawer for a while.</p><p>The picture was of a young girl of about 11 holding a toddler boy against her. They were both standing in front of a lake, dressed in their swimsuits, and smiling at something in the distance. She had dark green eyes and a chestnut shade in her hair, the boy had a somewhat light brown eyes and dirty blonde hair.</p><p>It had to be Souphead in that picture as a child, but then who was the girl?</p><p>She gasped when she heard footsteps coming up the stairs, luckily whoever it was, was walking away from her room. All the same, she didn’t move until she heard a bedroom door close. She them turned her attention back the picture and touched a finger to it lightly, focusing on the girl and her smile.</p><p>Betty said she wanted some answers to the questions she had, and it was going to start with this girl.</p><p>~</p><p>
  <strong>Two Days Before Thanksgiving</strong>
</p><p>She woke up the next morning dead set on finally getting everything out in the open between Souphead and herself. But when she went downstairs for the first time that morning he wasn’t at the house.</p><p>No one was for that matter, just her.</p><p>She knew Heather already left for school, but she had no idea where Soup and his mother had gone to. Probably the doctor if what she heard last might was any indication.</p><p>She poured herself a cup of coffee from the old coffee maker on the counter and went back upstairs to her room, where she would wait for Souphead to get home so hopefully, they could get started in an honest conversation about who they are as people.</p><p>Well, in all fairness, wasn’t she just great with the truth in the past?</p><p>~</p><p>Soup emerged from the tall grass hours later, when the sun was just beginning to set.</p><p>Betty hadn’t meant to upset him so much that he ran away from her. She didn’t know why she came down the stairs with such energy and self-righteousness. It was a part of her, that attitude, demanding what she wants when she wants it because the only person capable of calming her down was currently doing everything in his power to avoid her. If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up like her mother.</p><p>“Do you think he’s okay, Mrs. Jones?” she asked his mother, “He’s been gone a long time”</p><p>“Betty, Soup’s always been like this. He comes and goes as he pleases, never staying in one place for very long because he’s restless. There’s something in him that can never be sedated, and sometimes he needs to take some time to quiet his thoughts. We all do, but his mind requires a lot more work” the woman said softly, but Betty could see she was concerned. It was in her eyes.</p><p>Betty was helping his mother in the kitchen by drying the clean glasses in the sink, when she looked up and out the window and saw him. She put the towel and glass she’d been working on down and raced to the door. She walked out onto the porch and stopped at the top of the steps, he walked up to her and stopped right in front of her, standing at the bottom of the steps.</p><p>He had to tilt his gaze upward to look at her just slightly, and she rested her palms on his cheeks and examined his face. His eyes were red, and his face looked somehow flushed and reddened due to the cold. She wrapped her arms around him and held him close to her, hoping whatever bad things he’d been feeling could at least be slightly decreased by the warmth and support of true friendship. His forehead pressed into her collarbone and she rested her own head against his, with one of her thumbs stroking the back of his neck. His hands rubbed up and down her back in a soothing motion.</p><p>They stayed that way for another moment, just two friends quietly holding each other.</p><p>They both had responsibility and were in the wrong for the way they acted before, during, and after their little fight. But the thing is, when someone becomes something like a chosen sibling to you, you can’t stay angry for very long unless it’s really bad.</p><p>A cold breeze hit them, and they both shivered when it did, “Let’s go inside” Betty said softly. Soup nodded against her and eased himself from her grip, releasing her from his own as well. She took his hand and lead him onto the porch and into the house. The walked into the living room together and sat down on the old couch in the middle of the room.</p><p>“I’m sorry” he said quietly, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, I’m so sorry Bet”</p><p>Betty shook her head slightly as he spoke, “Please, I’m used to it. I’m sorry I pushed too far”</p><p>They were quiet for moment, he was looking down and she was looking at him, “You’re my friend, Betty” he said.</p><p>“You’re mine too, Soup” she said.</p><p>“But what kind of friends walk on eggshells around each other, avoiding being honest to each other about who they are?” he turned his head to look at her, she licked her lips and looked away from him. He knew the look on her face, it was the one she had whenever she deep in thought.</p><p>Finally she said, “The kind of friendship between two deeply damaged people, who just want to be happy and not focus on the bad stuff anymore”</p><p>He sighed and nodded, looking back the floor, “I think we’re gonna have to talk about the bad stuff and get it out in the open, it’s the only way we’re gonna survive it. And we can’t be friends and know nothing about each other beyond the surface”</p><p>She nodded solemnly in agreement, and after a second she said, “Where do we start?”</p><p>He turned to her and held out his hand, “Hi, I’m Souphead Jones”</p><p>She looked at him and a smile spread on her face, “Betty Cooper” she shook his hand.</p><p>“What do you do, Betty Cooper?”</p><p>“I’m an FBI agent, what about you Mr. Jones?”</p><p>“I run a car garage”</p><p>“Oh, very cool. You know, my dad taught me how to fix cars growing up”</p><p>“Oh yeah?”</p><p>“Yeah, maybe I could help out at your garage sometime?”</p><p>“That would be nice, Miss. Cooper. I’d appreciate it”</p><p>They continued at this pace until Soup’s mother told them it was time to eat dinner. Taking things slow would prove to be much easier for them instead of just jumping right into the heavy stuff, neither was quite prepared to do that. But they’d get there eventually, all they hoped for was that they’d be ready when it did.</p><p>~</p><p>“So, Thanksgiving’s the day after tomorrow” Soup’s mother said as they all sat together at the dinner table that night, “Soup, don’t forget to pick up the turkey from Mr. Weismann at the deli tomorrow. Heather, you and I are gonna start cooking some of our sides tomorrow”</p><p>“What, why me?” the girl demanded, looking up from her plate at her mother.</p><p>“You’re off school for break, and I need all the hands I can get” her mother said, looking her daughter straight in the eye with a look that showed she was deadly serious.</p><p>“And Betty, if you’re comfortable with it, would you mind running to the grocery store and picking up a can of pumpkin pie filling. I know I grabbed some the other day, but <em>someone</em>” she cast a look at her son “seems to have eaten it”</p><p>Betty smiled and giggled a bit at the mortified look on Soup’s face, “Sure, Mrs. Jones, it’s no problem at all”</p><p>“Thank you, dear” the woman said with her kind smile.</p><p>They all spent the evening laughing and talking together, like a family. It was nice, to have this feeling. Betty hadn’t known it in so long, since she was a child and still believed her father was a good man who loved her and sister. After they ate and cleared away the dishes, they all got into their pajamas and watched a movie together.</p><p>This was happiest Betty had been in so long, she never wanted this night to end.</p><p>But like all good things, it would.</p><p>~</p><p>
  <strong>Two Years Ago</strong>
</p><p>Betty was exhausted after working yet another late-night shift. All she wanted right now was a glass of red wine, a hot shower, and a long sleep.</p><p>She unlocked the door to her apartment with her keys and walked in, then shutting and locking the door when she was through. She went to her kitchen table and put down her work bag, then leaned against one of the chairs to support her while she took off her shoes. She left them in the closet right by her door that she used for all her coats, shoes, umbrellas, and a few other random things that she couldn’t find space for anywhere else.</p><p>She opened her work bag and took out a few folders and her phone. The screen lit up, and she saw a notification for a voicemail. After the face-ID recognized her, she saw who it was from.</p><p>Jughead Jones.</p><p>Her heart was pounding. Why was he calling? It’s been so long since they’ve seen each other. Was everything okay?</p><p>She opened the phone app and went to her missed call log and played the voicemail.</p><p>“I miss you”</p><p>
  <em>I miss you too.</em>
</p><p>“Do you ever think about what happened and wonder where we’d be if it didn’t?”</p><p>
  <em>Every day of my life, Juggie.</em>
</p><p>“I should just drop everything I knew about you and pretend that we never even happened?”</p><p>
  <em>No, no you shouldn’t. Please don’t forget about me.</em>
</p><p>“You never failed to drag me back down”</p><p>
  <em>I know I did, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.</em>
</p><p>“And then you just decided you didn’t need me anymore”</p><p>
  <em>I’ll always need you; you know that.</em>
</p><p>“Because I meant <em>nothing</em> to you”</p><p>
  <em>You meant everything to me.</em>
</p><p>“You’re supposed to grow, but you didn’t want to, and you never let me”</p><p>
  <em>I was so afraid; I didn’t know what to do.</em>
</p><p>“I wanted our future, but you didn’t want that anymore”</p><p>
  <em>I always wanted that future, I still do.</em>
</p><p>The voicemail ended, and Betty couldn’t breathe. She put the phone down on the table and put her hands flat against the table to try and hold herself up and keep her head.</p><p><em>He doesn’t want you anymore. He doesn’t love you anymore</em>, the voices in her head screamed at her. She thought she had been doing okay with moving forward, but now she realized, she hasn’t moved on at all. But clearly he has, clearly he wants to forget her and leave her behind him to become an old faded memory.</p><p>Her breaths turned to sobs, and tears began to fall down her cheeks. She sunk to the floor and drew her knees to her chest. She covered her face with her hands and let herself cry.</p><p>Toffee abandoned her place on the couch where she’d been playing and came over to her and seated her herself next to Betty, animals have an exquisite way of knowing when you need their unconditional love and support. She sat and watched Betty cry into her hands, meowing softly a few times to try and get her attention. And when the sobs subsided, Betty rested her head against her knees and reached over to scratch Toffee in her favorite spot.</p><p>“He really does hate me now, doesn’t he?” she whispered out loud into the dim light of her apartment. She picked herself up off the floor and went to her room. She really needed a shower and sleep. Come tomorrow, the procedure of shoving all her pain into one little corner of her mind would begin. She’ll keep all of it there, where it’ll never be touched again, and then one day she’ll die.</p>
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